He found
Jenny in the cafeteria. She was sitting alone in a booth, a deep sadness
lining her face. He slid into the seat opposite her and laid the briefcase
next to him.

"Hey Jenny,"
he said softly.

She looked at
him, and over at the briefcase. Her face brightened. "You found it, oh thank
God. When Dad awakens he'll be so grateful."

So she held
hope that her father would recover, Alex thought. Had the doctor
encouraged such a hope?

She tilted her
head. "May I have it please?"

"Not, 'hi, Alex,
how are you, where have you been?' " His smile was teasing, yet his eyes
were grave.

"Hi, Alex, how
are you, where have you been?"

"We made an agreement
to wait for your father, didn't we?"

Her green eyes
were flashing again. "And we will, but I'd like my
briefcase."

He leaned across
the table. "Jenny, that's not possible. This briefcase obviously holds important
information for our investigation."

"What
investigation?"

Alex drew in a
breath. "You might be interested to know that we operated a sting on Sammy
Gavota and one of his men tonight. Took them into custody. So, if I look
a little haggard and seem on edge, you'll understand
why."

"I'm sorry, Alex,
I didn't realize."

-163-

"Gavota accused
your father of stealing millions from them. We need the truth. We must see
the contents of the envelope. It's an integral part of our
investigation."

Angry tears sprang
to Jenny's eyes. Pushing her coffee mug to the side, she stood and walked
swiftly away. Alex sighed deeply as he watched her go. O'Reilly had ordered
him to open the envelope with or without her permission. He hadn't completely
followed his orders but he had opened the briefcase, discovered a manila
envelope sealed with masking tape. He'd fingered the contents and found a
key buried among some papers.

Now he lifted
the briefcase and ran up the stairs to the fourth floor. He chuckled aloud.
If this keeps up, he thought, I won't have to go to the gym for
a month.

He caught up
with Jenny at her father's door. "Will you please stop resisting me. We must
find a quiet place to talk."

"Yes, you're
right. There's a visitor's lounge around the corner."

The lounge was
filled with anxious people. It seemed impossible to talk here, but they found
two seats and Alex set the briefcase on Jenny's lap. "You may open the envelope
now."

Jenny drew the
briefcase to her. "Thank you."

"It's a bit hard
to talk here, but there seems no other place to go. Unless..." he paused,
"Yes, that's it. We'll go to my car."

Jenny sighed.
"No, I can open it here because we'll find nothing." She snapped her briefcase
open and reached for the envelope.

Before she could
unseal it, Dr. Hopkins walked brusquely into the room and spotted Jenny.
Glancing briefly at Alex, he directed his conversation to
her.

"I'm sorry,"
he said, "but I suggest you come to your father's room. He's not responding
as he should, his blood pressure has dropped, and his kidneys are failing.
I think you'll wish to be with him now."

-164-

Jenny quickly
stood and with Alex beside her they followed the doctor. "Is he going to
die, Dr. Hopkins?"

The doctor wore
a rueful expression. "Sometimes there are miracles." His grey eyes reflected
he didn't expect one in this case. "I'll be in the hospital for a while.
The nurse will call if I'm needed."

"Would you rather
go in alone, Jenny?" Alex asked.

The doctor
intervened. "She may need your support."

Her tear-filled
eyes agreed. I need you, they said, I need the comfort of your
presence. Alex walked into the darkened room with
her.

Jenny took her
father's hand and looked down into his face. It had turned an ashen gray
and his cheeks were contorted over the respirator in his mouth. Jenny watched
the wavering bleeps on the heart monitor. No doubt, there was cause for
alarm.

Setting the briefcase
on the floor, Jenny gently stroked her father's arm.

As the night
deepened, Alex kept vigil with Jenny. The only sound in the room was the
bleeping, monitors and the gasping sound of impending death. They were aware
that Philip Lansing was losing the battle.

In the stillness
of dawn, Jenny thought of her father's urgent phone call. He'd been in a
panic, insistent that she meet him and bring him the envelope. Why? She passed
her hand over her eyes at the troubling memory of the stalker, the fright
of the shaking earth, the horror of a hand clamped over her mouth, and the
terror of finding herself the hostage of a maniac.

And through it
all, Alex was there. Taking charge after the initial earthquake, sticking
with her against orders, and now, as exhausted as he was, quietly waiting
with her. If only he hadn't accused her father of theft. If only he wasn't
an FBI agent doing his duty. She closed her eyes and fantasized what their
relationship could be if he were an ordinary man she'd met, say, at a dinner
party.

She sank into
the chair and drifted into a light sleep. In a vivid dream her father was
standing before her. With a thumbs up gesture of approval as he looked at
Alex who was sprawled in a bedside chair.

-165-

She jerked awake.
Tiptoeing to her father's bed, she knew instantly what her heart wished to
deny.

"I'm sorry, Jenny."
Alex was behind her, gripping her arms and turning her around toward
him.

Sobs wrenched
her body. Tears formed a river down her face and onto his shirt. He smoothed
her hair, pushing it from her face. "I'm sorry," he
repeated.

Jenny glanced
at the wall calendar. Only a few days had passed since her father's phone
call. She had so longed to see him, to speak with him. For whatever reason,
fate had intervened. She remembered her mother's gentle admonition when she
had questioned the ways of God. "Sometimes He says no, Jenny. And even His
no's are for the best."

She couldn't
understand it then and she couldn't understand it now.

Alex released
her and left the room, returning with Dr. Hopkins and a
nurse.

"Dr. Hopkins,"
Jenny said. "I'm taking him home to Chicago. I want him buried next to my
mother."

The doctor nodded.
"That's understandable. We'll take care of things on this end. I suggest
the two of you get some rest, then make arrangements."

"Jenny," Alex
said as they walked down the stairs. "The doctor's right. You need sleep.
I'll handle the arrangements for you to ship his body back to
Chicago."

Jenny shook her
head. "That's kind of you, Alex, but now that Dad is gone, isn't your work
finished?"

Alex stopped
in the middle of the stairway and looked long and hard at her. He said nothing
and the very silence made Jenny's head spin.

She'd lost both
her parents in little over a year. Her tomorrows would be rough. The prospect
of flying back to Chicago with her father's body seemed
unbearable.

"Let me take
care of the details, Jenny," she heard Alex say. "But for now, we both need
food and sleep."

-166-

"No food, but
sleep, yes."

"In the morning,
you'll be rested and we'll both have clearer minds."

"Alex," Jenny
said on the drive to her hotel. "We should get our luggage from the
Marriott."

"Done." Alex
smiled at her and felt a jolt of pleasure when she smiled back, the first
smile he'd received in days. "Jenny, I'm sorry about your
father."

Jenny's childhood
name for her father floated on the edge of her mind as she reached back into
the past. Memories of her daddy laughingly lifting her high on his shoulders,
of tossing a ball to her, of holding her hand as she skipped along beside
him to the ice cream shop. She'd repeatedly heard the story of her parent's
great love, of their instant attraction blossoming into love. Suddenly she
was weeping. Great, huge sobs, incapable of speech. Alex pulled into the
parking lot of the Holiday Inn and stopped the car. Reaching for her, he
drew her into his arms and gently stroked her hair, bent and brushed his
lips against her forehead.

He kissed her
tears, and whispered softly, "Jenny, I wish I could take your
pain."

Her sobbing subsided
and she lifted her face to his. "Alex, you've been so kind to me, supporting
me through it all. I mean, I know this is an important case to you
and..."

When she didn't
respond, he lifted her face and gently kissed her. She touched his face,
the signal Alex was waiting for. He drew her close.

"Well, I'll tell
you since you won't ask. Yes, I've gone way beyond the call of duty, I knew
the moment we met in the airport that you're the girl for me. No, don't pull
back. I'm in love with you, Jenny, and if I read the signals right, I think
the feeling is mutual."

-167-

Jenny looked
deep into his eyes and longed to tell him what he wished to hear. She couldn't,
not yet, not with her father's guilt or innocence between
them.

She withdrew
and turned her head. Yes, she wanted to whisper, I'm in love with you
and I cannot say it. Not now, maybe never.

"I'll get your
suitcase from the truck." Alex said in his professional voice, as if he hadn't
just declared his love for her. "And I'll make arrangements for you and your
father to return to Chicago as soon possible."

After carrying
her suitcase to her room, Alex turned at the door. "There's a restaurant
in the hotel. Freshen up and let's get some food in
you."

Jenny sat on
the edge of the bed and looked up at him. "I couldn't eat a
thing."

"When did you
eat a good meal last, Jenny?"

"I don't
remember."

"Do you think
your father would want you to become ill? You have some trying days ahead.
You need food. I'll be back in ten minutes."

Jenny nodded.
After Alex closed the door, she curled on the bed and let her tears fall
in a bitter flood. Oh, Daddy, she thought, why did you go, why did you leave
me? How did this happen? What kind of hold did those terrible men have on
you to pull you down into their criminal world?

When her sobbing
finally subsided, she touched her lips, remembering Alex's mouth on hers,
his arms holding her close. His gentle declaration of love lifted her heart
momentarily. She hurried out of bed to change her clothes for dinner. How
could she sit across from him after the past moments of intense emotion?
Had he only been lost in pity for her loss and spoke of love to comfort
her?

She scolded her
reflection in the mirror. Her father was dead and she must mourn. How could
she possibly be thinking of love at a time like this? She couldn't listen
to this FBI Agent, this man who had accused her father of fraud express his
feelings. Could she?

-168-

As she waited
for Alex, her mind spun with questions and dropped into a single thought.
The briefcase! Where was it? The last she remembered, Alex had it in the
hospital cafeteria. She'd asked for it and he'd insisted he needed it for
the federal investigation.

She rubbed her
forehead as if to recover her memory of subsequent happenings. Oh yes, they'd
returned to her father's room. Then, a dense tangle of intertwining events.
Alex sprawled in a chair as they kept vigil over her father. Now she remembered.
She'd drifted to sleep. Yes, she'd had a vivid dream. Daddy had appeared
and nodding toward Alex, he'd signaled thumbs up. That dream had startled
her awake. She relived the moment she'd tiptoed to his bed and reached for
his lifeless hand. While she dozed, her beloved Daddy had slipped into the
next life. And yet in some mysterious way, he'd come to her in her sleep.
Looking at Alex, Daddy had signaled a positive message.

But in her fresh
grief, she'd forgotten the briefcase, the reason she'd flown to Los Angeles.
Would Alex really turn it over to the FBI? And if he did, she reasoned, what
did it matter? Nothing in that case could hurt or help her father now. Or
could it?

She opened her
suitcase and slipped on a pair of blue jeans, a white turtleneck sweater,
and a red wool blazer.

A short rap sounded
at the door and she scolded her heart for its erratic beat. A part of her
wanted to greet Alex put her arms around him and feel his lips on hers again.
Another part, the sensible part, said to behave like a bereaved daughter.
Which she was.

When she opened
the door, Alex greeted her with a smile. "Ready?"

He looked boyishly
handsome in khaki pants and a navy blue polo shirt under a tan sports coat.
She tried to block her thoughts of their sweet exchange in his car. Had his
kiss and words of love been a fleeting emotion? And the dream of her father's
signal of approval? Just a dream, a silly dream.

The air was cold,
invigorating. There had been innumerable aftershocks throughout the day and
strangely enough, neither mentioned

-169-

them. Jenny, wrapped in her grief, could
think of little except the loss of her father.

Alex was wrapped
in his own emotions. He'd found the love of his life, the girl he wanted
to marry. Yet, there were barriers between them. He must convince her of
his duty to search for the truth of her father's involvement with the mafia.
But how could he persuade her of anything? She became quietly hostile when
he broached the subject. And what of the briefcase? She would soon remember
and ask him to return it.

He had called
O'Reilly from his room and told him of Lansing's death. As always, Tim was
brief and brusque. "I'm sorry to hear that, Alex, but it's time you came
home."

"Jenny's having
a bad time, Tim. She wants to bring his body back to
Chicago."

O'Reilly sighed
deeply. "I wonder what possessed Lansing to get mixed up with the mafia.
A well-known author, a businessman, a husband, a
father."

"He felt he had
no choice, Tim."

"We all have
choice. Hey, Kendall, I thought I gave you time off. What's with Jenny and
you?" O'Reilly paused and chuckled. "My sixth sense was right again. You're
crazy about the girl."

"Uh, Tim, I can't
discuss my personal feelings just now. But I will help her with
arrangements."

"Do that. We'll
investigate further when you return."

That conversation
was spinning in his mind as Alex sat across from Jenny in the hotel restaurant.
She nibbled on a chef salad without looking at him. They were physically
so close so he could reach out and touch her, yet she seemed more distant
then ever. Not thirty minutes ago, he'd said words to her he'd never said
to another woman. He'd declared his love, kissed her sweet mouth, felt her
hand on his face, yet now...nothing.

He finished his
sandwich and sat back. She pushed her plate away, and suggested they
leave.

-170-

Back at the hotel,
Alex inserted her key into the lock and stepped aside.

"Thank you for
dinner," Jenny smiled. "We'll talk in the morning."

"I'll be at your
door at ten. Try and sleep in."

"Make it nine,
if you don't mind." For the first time, Jenny looked him steadily in the
eyes. "And when you come, bring the briefcase with you. It's time we open
it together."